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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27735793">How To Move to Night Vale: Step 1, Arrive in Town; Step 2, Automatically Become a Resident</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeag83/pseuds/nutmeag83'>nutmeag83</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Welcome to Night Vale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A story about you, Background Carlos/Cecil Palmer, F/F, Gen, My idea on how new people end up moving to night vale, New in Town, The Weather (Welcome to Night Vale), Trans Character, Trans Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:46:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27735793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeag83/pseuds/nutmeag83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You don’t intend to move to Night Vale. It just sort of … happens? You have a good job and a good home, and you are perfectly satisfied—no, not satisfied … content—with your life. But Night Vale happens, and you just go with it, like you always do. Your friends have always told you its your best trait.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>How does Night Vale get new residents? Given the high death count, either all the citizens have a TON of kids, or Night Vale simply ... acquires new people. I imagine the town is sentient enough to pull in people it likes. Here's a story of how that might happen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How To Move to Night Vale: Step 1, Arrive in Town; Step 2, Automatically Become a Resident</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I found this mostly finished in my abandoned works folder. I liked it, so I added a few words and decided to post it. Hope you enjoy it! Not beta'd.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You don’t intend to move to Night Vale. It just sort of … happens? You have a good job and a good home, and you are perfectly satisfied—no, not satisfied … content—with your life. But Night Vale happens, and you just go with it, like you always do. Your friends have always told you its your best trait.</p>
<p>You’re traveling to visit your sister, and on the drive across the desert that takes you to her, you stop overnight at a motel on the edge of the town you hit around supper time. You think it’s a little odd that you have to sign the register in blood—you have a perfectly nice working pen in your bag—but hey, if they want to conserve ink, who are you to tell them otherwise? You’re just passing through.</p>
<p>The next morning, after one of the best sleeps you’d had in years—you aren’t sure if it was the mournful moaning three doors down or the sickly sweet aroma bubbling out of the misting machine by the bed, but whatever it is worked like a charm—you find an orange envelope slipped under your door. In semaphore drawings, it tells you that you have been assigned as the new English teacher. Your semaphore knowledge is weak, so you’re not sure if the previous teacher quit or was swallowed by a black hole, but it doesn’t really matter.</p>
<p>You shrug. You majored in psychology and have been working in the field as such for the last five years, but you did have a lot of writing to do in school, so you think you can handle this. English is mostly about reading books and talking about them, right? You can manage that. You like to read. You call your sister to let her know you won’t be visiting this week after all, but your phone starts smoking and sparking as soon as she answers. You’ll have to remember to hunt down a computer and try emailing her later.</p>
<p>You arrive at Night Vale High School and are directed to the vice principal’s office. She’s very excited you showed up already in uniform. You look down at your grey t-shirt, jean capris, and orange Chuck Taylors and ask about the color of the shoes. Everyone else’s seem to be a rust color. She waves you off and says that will be taken care of at the morning sacrificial ceremony. You nod. It’s always nice to not have to change your look just to go to work.</p>
<p>You are given attendance sheets, scrolls, and a watercolor set and directed to your room. When you arrive, the class is already full. It’s always nice to come into a new job where everything is already in place. You take attendance, which takes a good forty minutes, since everyone must perform their own interpretive dance routine to announce their presence, then you open up the scroll to see what the students are working on.</p>
<p>The scroll is filled with numbers and letters. Algebra? Geometry? You barely past stats in college and have tried to forget as much math as possible. You ask one of the students. They look at you funny and say “It’s English! What kind of English teacher are you?”</p>
<p>Now, you’ve been pretty roll-with-the-punches so far, because it’s in your nature to be so, but this is definitely not English. A tiny elfin-looking creature at the back of the room stands up and sighs. “Come on, Mike, give the new teacher a break. The administration only switched English and algebra a week ago. Maybe she wasn’t around to hear that announcement.” It’s nice being in a place that gets your gender right on the first try.</p>
<p>Your shoulders drop in relief. You say that you only arrived in Night Vale the night before and had indeed missed the announcement that English and algebra had been switched. You make a mental note to talk to the vice principal, but figure you can handle one day of teaching. Maybe it’ll turn out that you’re really good at it. You won’t know until you try.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, you’re pants at algebra, both in learning and teaching it. The morning drags on forever, but lunchtime eventually comes. The sentient patch of blue fog that teaches theater (“I’m Misty. Yeah, my parents have terrible taste in names, laugh it up.”) invites you to eat lunch with her. You’d rather eat alone, but you’re polite and accept. Perhaps you can learn more about the school and town.</p>
<p>You’re warned not to ever go to the library (“Not that an English teacher ever needs to go to the library”) but told that the Moonlite All-Nite Diner has the best invisible pie in town. Misty gives you a spare coupon for a free slice of pizza from Big Rico’s. When you say you’re gluten intolerant, Misty laughs and says, “Aren’t we all?” She’s cute when she laughs. You wonder if she’d go get a slice with you some evening.</p>
<p>The afternoon goes faster after you decide to forgo teaching algebra and just talk about your favorite movies instead. You applaud the school system on molding such polite, intelligent children. They all do exactly as asked, and the one time a student speaks out of turn, he looks completely terrified, which concerns you just a bit, but you let it go. It’s your first day after all. They’ll get used to you.</p>
<p>You try to talk the vice principal into switching you to … would it be called algebra? ... class, or really anything else but math, but she shrugs and said it’s already been carved into the bloodstones. When you say you’re terrible at math, she asks if you can count to eight. When you affirm, she says you’ll be fine. You sigh and nod.</p>
<p>You ask her where the closest real estate office is, so you can look into getting an apartment—the motel is great and all, but the orange buzzing lights are really annoying after a while. The vice principal’s eyes go wide and her face pales to an olive green, she stutters a bit before the administrative assistant pokes his head through the door and reminds her that you can just take the old English teacher’s home, since they no longer need it, being an Erika now. The vice principal looks relieved.</p>
<p>You raise your eyebrows but follow their directions to your new home—a cute tri-level with a yellow door, the bloodstone circle that you’d learned earlier that day was required in all Night Vale homes, a cheerful kitchen, six bedrooms, and no bathroom.</p>
<p>A smooth voice whispers that the last occupant converted the bathrooms to bedrooms, since they had no use for them, and gives you the number of a reliable plumber. You wonder if your neighbors are nice enough to let you use theirs until you can get one installed. One waved to you as you arrived earlier. He had a very furry face, but there seemed to be a smile hidden under the hair.</p>
<p>Your neighbors are indeed very nice. They are a fairly young couple with two children. The man who waved at you says you’re welcome to use their bathroom whenever. The other man, the one who answered the door, gives you a key to their home, plus the appropriate runes to keep the door from eating you. You make a note to bake them a pie in thanks. You talk about the <a href="https://youtu.be/WJ9-xN6dCW4">weather</a>, as good neighbors do, along with the chances of Night Vale’s football team this year (a topic kindly suggested by the woman in a balaclava and cape hiding in the verge) before heading back to your new home to unpack your one bag. You’ll have to go shopping soon. Your Chucks won’t last long if they get covered in blood every day, and you’re about out of deodorant.</p>
<p>That night, you lie in your bed, listening to the screeching of the setting sun—it seems a bit late, almost eleven, but time has never meant that much to you anyway—and think about your first day as a Night Vale citizen. This place is like no other place you’ve ever lived. It’s strange, you won’t deny it, but you like it. It’s comfortable. Even while your brain is telling you it’s wrong in so many ways, your body is saying it’s perfectly natural.</p>
<p>Your mind finally calms when your radio turns itself on for the government-mandated community radio show, and you consider your future. The radio host gushes about the town’s resident scientist, and you smile sleepily when you hear that they just got married. You make a note to sit with Misty at lunch tomorrow. You really should ask her out.</p>
<p>You look forward to tomorrow for the first time in years. You think you’re finally home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The weather is "This Is the End" by Phoebe Bridgers.</p>
<p>Thank you for reading! </p>
<p>You can come babble excitedly at me on Tumblr <a href="http://vateacancameos.tumblr.com/">@vateacancameos</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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